


In Grief and Shadows

by Once_and_Future_Avalon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (maybe), Character Death, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Immortality, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Minor Original Character(s), Post-Battle of Camlann (Merlin), a lot of magic, an almost death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29593413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Once_and_Future_Avalon/pseuds/Once_and_Future_Avalon
Summary: An alternate ending to Merlin (post Camlann)
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	In Grief and Shadows

When Arthur began to fall, Merlin knew there was not much time left. He tried to lift him back up, to press on to the lake, just visible through the trees; so, so close. 

But Arthur resisted. 

“Just, just, just hold me. Please,” he slurred, falling back against Merlin’s chest.

“No, no, no. We have to make it, Arthur. Don’t do this,” Merlin begged.

Arthur’s only response was to begin his goodbyes.

Merlin started searching his mind frantically, for any idea, any at all. He dug through absolutely every memory of magic he had, hoping against hope that he could find a way of traveling the last few meters with this dying man in his arms. It was this thought, as unwelcome as it was, that made him suddenly remember a similar situation, so many years ago.

He quickly shushed Arthur, who was still struggling through his last words. “Save your breath. We are getting there. You’re not saying goodbye yet,” Merlin ordered. Then he mumbled, “I’ve never done this before, but Morgause has. Surely if she could, I can.”

Arthur began to frown, but Merlin told him, “You can kill me later. I need to focus. At least I know where we're going…”

He brought forward in his mind the image of the lake, chanting “ _Bedyrne ús! Astýre ús þanonweard!_ ” as he focused on the shore. He closed his eyes, clinging to Arthur when the sudden wind threatens to pull his king away from him.

When the wind stopped, he felt sand beneath his knees, where grass once was.

Merlin cautiously opened his eyes and whooped when he realised it worked. His excitement died the second he glanced down and saw how grey Arthur had become.

There was no time to waste. He threw his magic out to the Sidhe and the tower in the lake. He begged them to heal Arthur, to bring him home.

When the lake remained quiet, and Arthur’s breaths became raspier, Merlin panicked.

_Anything_ , he told them. _I will offer_ anything _if you bring him back to me._

A wave of magic soon answered, and the king’s protector suddenly saw the indigo sky when his head snapped back as it washed over him.

Hundreds of lights arose from the lake, swiftly approaching his place on the beach.

When they tried to take Arthur out of his arms, he screamed, suddenly terrified and unsure of what he had done. Arthur reached weakly for his sorcerer, too far gone to feel his own fear, but unwilling to go when his closest friend was still in danger. But nothing stopped the Sidhe as the Once and Future King was carried to the lake.

One of them stayed behind. His blue face was cold as ice, showing none of the kindness Merlin had hoped for.

“What is the price?” Merlin croaked as Arthur disappeared from his sight.

“A life cannot be saved without a death. It must be a life for a life,” the leader declared, brandishing his staff.

Merlin laughed darkly. “The last person to tell me that I killed,” he said. “I have learned much since then. Leon was saved without this price. Try again.”

The Sidhe man’s mouth narrowed in displeasure. “Then bring us the dragon Kilgharrah. His magic shall be our price.”

Merlin looked up at the blue man. Kilgharrah might have been a friend, once. But everything he has ever said has led them here. He nearly killed Arthur that day he was freed. Besides, he was so old now. Asking, for the sake of the future, could not hurt.

Still kneeling in the cold sand, the Dragonlord threw his head back to the stars and roared into the heavens. Kilgharrah did not delay.

“Merlin, why have you called me?” questioned the Great Dragon as he landed.

The sorcerer stood, finally, stretching to his full height. Looking the dragon straight in the eyes, he said, “Arthur is dying. The Sidhe are the only ones who can save him, but they demand your magic as payment.”

The golden reptile shook his head. “They ask for something I cannot give. I will surely die.”

The Last Dragonlord turned to the figure behind him. “Then you still ask a life for a life, despite what I told you?”

The Sidhe spread his arms. “We ask not for his life, but his magic. The fact that we cannot have one without the other is not our concern. You have promised anything for the return of the Once and Future King, have you not?”

Merlin glared at him, fighting against inner turmoil. Then he sighed and spoke to Kilgharrah. “You have said you have lived for a thousand years. You are one of the last of your kind. You are already dying, Kilgharrah. What do you have to lose, in the face of the future where all can be free?” Merlin softened his voice, looking towards the dark tower in the lake, and added, “I cannot lose him. He is my friend.”

Kilgharrah studied Merlin for a few moments, then bowed his head. He has spent centuries upon this Earth. He was one of the wisest beings left, albeit a selfish one. But not even his will to survive could surpass the emotion he heard in Merlin’s voice that moment. The depths within those words would put many to shame, and yet even the young man himself was unaware.

“I will hand my magic over. Let it be now, before I change my mind.”

The Sidhe leader smiled, displaying razor-sharp fangs, then sent a shockwave of magic to the island.

Once again, a wave of small lights came to their spot on the beach. They descended upon Kilgharrah within moments. A bright golden flash turned the night into day, and suddenly they were all gone, including the Sidhe leader.

Merlin had no tears left to give. It was soon put aside, anyways, as a boat appeared from the island, with Arthur at the prow.

When the king stumbled out, even he could not hold Merlin off, or pry him away. He might not have tried too hard.

“Yes, yes, I’m alright _Mer_ lin. No need to be such a girl about it,” Arthur grunted, unable to get in enough air from the squeezing around his ribs. But he rubbed Merlin’s back anyways, soothing the sobs.

Apparently, Merlin did still have tears to give, for Arthur. Only ever for Arthur.

When Arthur finally did pry the clingy sorcerer away, keeping a hand on his arm, he said, “Right. Without horses, we probably have a several days march ahead of us. Better get a move on.”

Merlin beamed through his tears, and said “yes, sire,” before they started walking. They were still connected by Arthur’s hand on Merlin’s arm, and Merlin’s tight grip on Arthur’s sleeve, both refusing to move away.

~

Gwen truly was an amazing queen, as well as a wonderful mother. She and Arthur raised two children together: a daughter and a son. When the time came, Ygraine took the throne, with her brother Elyan by her side as an advisor.

Merlin stayed on as a servant. Despite all the royals offering (and ordering) constantly, he refused to become Court Sorcerer. After all the death and pain he had caused, he felt he did not deserve it.

Gwaine wandered back into Camelot a decade after Camlann, with no memory of what had happened. Percival’s rib-crushing hug, however, ended up being the oxygen-reduced shock he needed for it to begin to trickle back. He never did get all of it, but enough returned for him to choose to stay. To choose Percival.

Morgana’s death led to a power-vacuum in the Old Religion, despite its legalisation. A few sorcerers stepped up to fill it, taking up the fight to destroy Camelot, but destiny had already come to pass. They were all defeated, one after another, until it finally sank in that Albion was now a safe place for them.

There was only one true problem after Arthur’s miraculous return. Merlin was still immortal, facing centuries of life with loss and grief on his shoulders.

But it was soon found he was not the only one. Arthur, after being created by magic, saved by the Cup of Life, and then again returned by the Sidhe, was now too connected to the Old Religion to remain mortal. While not of magic, like Merlin, he was still a creature from it.

It was hidden from everyone. When Merlin began to suspect, as Arthur remained untouched by time while Gwen began to turn grey, he confronted him. He offered to give Arthur a normal reign, ended by old age. Arthur, unable to bear Gwen aging without him, agreed.

He appeared old, next to the man he now knew was also Dragoon, at Gwen’s funeral.

He looked ancient when Ygraine was crowned queen at her coronation.

He died three years into her reign.

Young again, he and a wizened Merlin watched his funeral together.

When Merlin died, he moved to Arthur’s farm just outside of Camelot. They had to change their appearances, but the Once and Future King refused to be parted from his children, or grandchildren, or great-grandchildren.

When the pain of loss grew to be too much, they finally moved. Camelot fell to invaders soon after. They blamed themselves.

It took years for Merlin to convince Arthur it was not his fault. It took even longer to convince him that a good king must step back, and let history take its course. That Arthur was fated to live, and that his ruling could not change their dying.

It took years for Arthur to convince Merlin his magic never made him a monster. That the death and pain was not his fault. That he made the right choices. It took longer to convince him that magic would not have saved Camelot, or prevented the horrors of history, either.

It took centuries together, alone in their pain, but interacting with their constantly changing world, to realise there was more to life than regret.

It took a millennium for Merlin to realise he loved Arthur, as Kilgharrah once saw by Avalon. That he might always have. That he treasured the few hugs from Arthur he received, and their easy banter. That Arthur was the golden sun on his darkest days.

It took another century for Arthur to realise he loved Merlin. That even if Gwen returned today, she could never compare. Not because he did not love her, but because she was not the man in front of him, changing all their lives by being unflinchingly himself. She was not the man who saved him countless times and put him back together again after centuries of loss.

Merlin and Arthur have loved each other for a millennium and more. They have each called the other “husband” for a century only. 

They are immortal. But they do not walk alone, or in shadows. The Once and Future King has and will rise again when Albion needs him most, and the Greatest Sorcerer to Ever Walk the Earth has been and will always be right by his side.


End file.
